


only in my dreams

by wasted



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demon Oikawa Tooru, Final Haikyuu Quest, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28680177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasted/pseuds/wasted
Summary: Hajime dreams that he’s in a throne room. There’s a high, arched ceiling above him, with fiery chandeliers dangling over his head. The floor is stone, cold against his bare feet. Across from him, across the large room, is a throne adorned with gold leaves crawling up the arms and legs.And, sitting in shadows on the throne, is Oikawa.“Hajime?” He asks. Oikawa sits up from his slouched position, watching him intently. He looks like he's just seen a ghost.Oikawa is wearing a ridiculous outfit, a black turtleneck frock and what appears to be a cape, but strangest of all -“You have horns,” Hajime comments, stepping closer.“I grew them myself.”“They look stupid.”In which Iwaizumi's dreams are haunted by a demon with the face of his best friend.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 146





	only in my dreams

Come back. Even as a shadow, as a dream.

Euripides

* * *

Hajime dreams that he’s in a throne room. There’s a high, arched ceiling above him, with fiery chandeliers dangling over his head. The floor is stone, cold against his bare feet. Across from him, across the large room, is a throne adorned with gold leaves crawling up the arms and legs.

And, sitting in shadows on the throne, is Oikawa.

“Hajime?” He asks. Oikawa sits up from his slouched position, watching him intently. He looks like he's just seen a ghost.

Hajime stiffens at the use of his given name - he hasn’t heard Oikawa call him that since they were young kids.

Oikawa is wearing a ridiculous outfit, a black turtleneck frock and what appears to be a cape, but strangest of all -

“You have horns,” Hajime comments, stepping closer. Walking in the dream is like wading through shallow water; the air feels too thick. Oikawa keeps his eyes trained on Hajime as he approaches.

“I grew them myself.”

“They look stupid.”

They watch each other.

Hajime frowns. “Am I dreaming?”

“Hm. I thought I was.” Oikawa admits. He looks down at his hands, clasped over his stomach. Momentarily, he glances at Hajime with narrowed eyes, before pinching his own hand.

At that, Hajime’s frown deepens. “I thought dreams were supposed to have secret meanings, and shit,” he says. "So what the hell does this mean?" 

Hajime doesn’t understand why his subconscious is choosing to show him his best friend with horns, in a cape, and wearing thigh high boots.

He isn’t complaining, though.

“I’ve missed you, Iwa-chan.”

The throne room melts away to darkness.

* * *

“Wake up.”

“Iwa-chan, wake up.”

A ragged breath.

“Please.”

There’s a weight on Hajime’s chest, hair tickling his neck. Wet hands clutching his shoulders, tightly curved against him. His whole body is numb. He thinks, briefly, that it might be raining.

He's still dreaming.

“Oikawa?” Hajime asks. 

The weight stiffens against him. Something sharp catches his chin. Probably a horn.

“Oikawa? Why are you crying?”

Oikawa lifts his head to peer down at Hajime. His eyes are wide, pooled with tears. They run in rivulets down his cheeks, washing away the grime and dirt and blood in thin streams. His lips tremble as he glances over Hajime’s face.

Hajime asks again, “Why are you crying?”

An alarm blares. 

Hajime wakes up with a start in his bed. He grabs his phone, shutting the alarm off, and glares at his lockscreen - a picture of him with his best friends - with an intense concentration on Oikawa’s grinning face.

* * *

They’re on the roof, their usual place to escape from their classrooms during their breaks. Hajime has his back against the fence, with Matsukawa beside him, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Oikawa, from his spot on the floor, (practically sitting on Hajime’s foot,) stares up at the sky. Hajime tries to imagine a pair of horns sprouting from his brown hair. “I think it’s gonna rain,” he half-whines, “and I didn’t even bring an umbrella today.” He blinks up at Hajime, who just so happens to always keep one in his locker.

"Forget it. We’re not sharing mine.”

“Fine. I’ll just use it myself then.”

“No way! I don’t give a shit about you keeping your hair dry-”

“Shut up, both of you,” Hanamaki interjects, waving his hand. “It might not even rain today.”

Matsukawa hums in agreement. “If only we had something like a weather app to check.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hanamaki says, shaking his head, “these two caveman-brains would never think of something like that.”

“Caveman?” Oikawa gasps. “I am anything but. Iwa-chan, on the other hand,”

Hajime glares at him, and Oikawa grins sheepishly back.

“Iwaizumi, don’t think I’ve forgotten about last week,” says Hanamaki. He reaches into his school bag and brings out two apples. “We’re going for round two.”

“Makki, you wanna get your ass handed to you again?” Oikawa teases. Hajime shoves him before he can gloat anymore on his behalf.

“Enough. I’d like to see _you_ try against him, princess,” Hanamaki chides, failing at looking offended with a sharp grin on his face.

Hajime takes the apple from Hanamaki, tossing it from palm to palm. Matsukawa tugs up his pant legs to lean forward, his elbows on his knees as he squints at the two apples.

“Don’t let me down this time, Hanamaki,” Matsukawa says. Hanamaki only scoffs in response. 

Hajime adjusts the grip on his apple, watching Hanamaki cooly as he fiddles with his apple’s stem. Matsukawa begins his countdown; “Three, two, one.”

Hajime pulls, twists, and then the apple cracks apart in his hands. Mere seconds after, Hanamaki does the same with a grunt.

Kissing his teeth, Matsukawa shakes his head a little. “Ladies and gentlemen, reigning apple-breaking champion: Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“You’ll probably get it next time,” Hajime offers, fighting his grin. Hanamaki flips him off.

“Well done, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa cheers. “Now, if only your apple-breaking skills could get you a girlfriend. Ow!”

Hajime retracts his hand after swatting Oikawa. “If only you’d _shut up._ ”

“Redo!” Hanamaki calls, already munching on one half of his apple.

“Where are you gonna get the apples from?” Matsukawa asks, slightly raising a thick brow.

“I’ll find somewhere,” Hanamaki grumbles.

Hajime looks down to the apple sections in his hands. Silently, he passes Oikawa the bigger half, and then convinces himself it’s because he doesn’t like apples that much anyway.

* * *

That night, in his dream, Hajime finds himself on a balcony. A wild wind whips through the trees and bushes below him, and lashes at his nightshirt.

Beside him, the gusts tug furiously at Oikawa's hair, revealing the tawny base of the horns protruding from his head.

"What is this place?" Hajime asks.

"Our home," answers Oikawa.

Hajime peers across the lands from the balcony. Dusk settles itself into the long shadows of the trees. Above, the faintest of stars are beginning to twinkle.

"It's time we went inside," Oikawa insists, lifting his chin from his palm. He flicks his hair out of his face, then strides back into the library. He walks, Hajime notices, with a prominent limp.

Promptly, Hajime follows, shutting the double doors behind him. 

On the floor, Matsukawa is sprawled out by the fireplace. Next to him sits Hanamaki with his legs crossed, and a pillow in his lap.

Oh. So they're in this dream, too. Hanamaki wears a fluffy white shirt, and Matsukawa, a dark blue tunic.

Oikawa relaxes onto a red chaise longue near them, one leg crossed over the other at his ankle. "Sit, Iwa-chan," he instructs. Hajime presses his lips in a hard line but does so, perched on the edge of the longue.

It's strange to see his friends wearing such ridiculous, incredibly old fashioned outfits. Hajime feels rather naked in his pajamas, and can only be relieved that he'd felt cold last night and kept his shirt on.

From the floor, Matsukawa and Hanamaki watch Oikawa carefully.

"The prophecy is bullshit," Hanamaki starts quietly, tiptoeing over his words. "Pay no attention to it, Oikawa."

Oikawa inhales sharply. "I'm trying, Makki. You're the one who keeps bringing it up."

Hanamaki nods with a slow blink, staring down at the pillow in his lap.

"Hey, since when did you get so rude?" Hajime blurts, scowling at Oikawa.

Hanamaki peers up at him with wide eyes. Regardless, Hajime keeps his eyes trained on Oikawa.

With his chin tilted upwards, Oikawa replies coldly, “You wouldn’t know.”

“The hell does that mean?”

An ugly beat passes, filled only by the crackle of the fire. It casts a warm glow against Oikawa’s face, but draws a long shadow on the other side. His eyes, a startling red, narrow as Hajime watches him. The absence of their usual warmth disturbs Hajime.

How is Oikawa, his whiny best friend who still cries at the end of dog movies, striking so much fear here?

Breaking the silence, Matsukawa clears his throat. “Have you all heard?” He asks, looking between Oikawa and Hajime with his usual half-lidded disinterest. He glances at Hanamaki, and they share a secret, indecipherable look. “Kageyama and that shrimp have officially joined forces.”

Oikawa turns to Matsukawa. “I’ll crush them.” He says, simply, with his chin turned downwards. There’s a bloodthirsty, cruel twist to his lips. It’s different from the competitive smirks and goading glares he shows on the volleyball court; Hajime thinks it looks almost grotesque on Oikawa’s face. “Tobio-chan and Chibi-chan don’t stand a chance against me.”

As if on cue, all three turn to watch Hajime. He shuffles in his seat slightly, blinking back at them all with a frown.

“This is the part where you tell me I’m not alone in this, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tells him.

“What?”

“Someone hasn’t been reading the script,” Hanamaki mutters to Matsukawa.

Hajime frowns, studying the faces of his friends watching him. He licks his lips. His throat feels too dry; he supposes it must be the heavy blanket enveloping him called dreaming dulling all of his senses. He looks to Oikawa. “These aren’t my dreams, are they?” Hajime asks.

Oikawa is staring into the fire. It’s odd, Hajime thinks to himself, to look at his best friend and see an almost-stranger. “Yes,” Oikawa sighs, glancing at Hajime. “In all honesty, I didn’t mean to bring you here. To my dreams. My magic - it has a mind of its own sometimes.” He looks somewhere far off out the window, a bitter smile carved onto his lips.

Or maybe it's a snarl.

"Oh," Hajime manages, not sure what to say. He’s… in a whole different world?

Oikawa leans forward in his seat. “Haj - Iwa-chan. Tell me, what is your world like?”

“It’s not that interesting,” Hajime answers. “There’s no… magic there, for starters.”

“What do you do for fun there?”

“Um. Bully you, mostly.”

Faintly, Oikawa’s eyes narrow. Hajime notices the smallest pout forming at his lips. “Mean,” he mutters.

“We play volleyball,” Hajime continues. "All of us." Matsukawa tilts his head at this, gazing at him curiously.

“What on earth is that?” Oikawa questions.

“A sport. You’re really good at it. Amazing, even. And you love it.”

Oikawa turns his nose up at this.

“You love milk bread, too. It's annoying. And bad sci-fi movies. Shitty alien documentaries. You’re obsessed with your neighbours' cat and you’re probably gonna steal it soon.”

“I never asked about what I’m like there.”

“Ah. Right.”

“I’m sure I still look this good, though,” Oikawa ponders, smiling to himself with a flick of his hair. Again, Hanamaki and Matsukawa share a look, but there's a slight curl to Hanamaki's lips, this time.

Hajime can’t help but roll his eyes. He gets the urge to kick Oikawa, but thinks better of it. “Yeah, you’re full of yourself over there too,” he grumbles. “What do you guys do here?”

“Plan Oikawa’s world domination,” Matsukawa answers, with a lazy grin.

“One day, all of the lands will be under Seijoh’s rule. Shiratorizawa is already crumbling.” Oikawa declares. “Do you have something to say, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime’s eyes are furrowed into a scowl. “What, are you _evil?_ ”

A shadow flashes across Oikawa’s eyes, only for a moment. Fear, Hajime thinks. Tension lies heavy in the room, threatening to sag Hajime’s shoulders. He keeps his eyes trained on Oikawa, whilst the wind howls furiously outside.

“Depends who you ask,” replies Hanamaki.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Oikawa snaps. He crosses his arms with a pout, and turns to Hajime. “Sweet dreams, Iwa-chan.”

* * *

“Wake up.”

“Iwa-chan, wake up.”

A ragged breath.

“Please."

“This again?” Hajime asks. Once again, his body is numb. Above him, the sky is dark, shrouded with heavy clouds.

Oikawa freezes against his neck. He lifts his head and regards Hajime with a cold stare.

"I dream about this every night." 

Hajime is jerked awake by his alarm.

* * *

The next night, when Hajime finally falls asleep and begins to dream, he appears under a tree beside Oikawa.

"This is one of my fondest memories," Oikawa tells him. He begins grasping at the grass beneath him, ripping apart the shards carefully with his fingers.

"All of my life, everyone has feared me. But not you," he explains. "Because I was, and still am, a monster. A demon boy prone to tantrums, whining, and crying, which didn't make me very popular as a child, as you can imagine."

"You've always been an ugly crier," Hajime inputs.

"Nothing about me is ugly," Oikawa complains, looking down to hide the smallest of an indignant pout. "We met here as children. And we would come here often; making up stories here, exploring the forest, climbing this very apple tree."

Oikawa looks up, lost in fond memories. Sunlight wades in through the gaps in the leaves, golden light drifting across his face. Then, slowly, he takes the grass shards in his palm, and dumps them on Hajime's foot.

Hajime shoots him a violent glare. He clutches the grass on his foot and promptly throws it in Oikawa's face.

It's awkward as they stare at each other; Oikawa's mouth is parted in surprise, blades of grass dangling from his lips.

Hajime breaks first. A smile splits his face, chortling to himself. Oikawa splutters as he begins to laugh too, swiping furiously at the grass on his face.

"You're just like him," Oikawa says after the laughter dies, but it's so quiet, it might be considered a whimper.

Pursing his lips, Hajime looks around the swaying fields just to avoid meeting Oikawa's gaze. He wants to interrupt and remind him that that wasn't _him_ , but some other Iwaizumi Hajime. However, the pain in Oikawa's voice, in his eyes, makes Hajime bite his tongue. It's as if just looking at Hajime hurts him.

Truly, Hajime doesn't know what happened to the Iwaizumi Hajime of this world. But he can make a sensible guess.

Oikawa brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he rests his head on his forearms. He huffs at a piece of hair that falls in his eyes. It's such an endearing, familiar, _Oikawa_ action that it makes Hajime's heart ache a little.

He's like his Oikawa, too. Just a dumb, confused kid.

"Admittedly, I haven't been myself lately. No, I haven't been myself for a long time," confesses Oikawa - the demon, Hajime reminds himself. "But…"

They watch each other.

"What happened to - to him?" Hajime asks.

"He died." Oikawa answers. A shadow dances across his face as the sun rolls behind grey clouds. He slouches back against the tree. His foot sways slowly. He's projecting an almost-perfectly curated air of nonchalance, but it's too poised, and Hajime sees right through it. His jaw is clenched tight, and the stern set of his eyebrows reveal the real tension in his body.

Hajime wants to retort, _I had guessed that much_ , but the anguish in Oikawa's face stops him.

"It was my fault," says Oikawa.

"How?"

"He had been my second in command. And so much more," Oikawa explains. Hajime feels heat crawling up his neck, but he forces himself to ignore it. "But that's irrelevant now. I wanted too much. I ruled with too much cruelty. I didn't listen to him. He - I paid the price. He left me."

Oikawa looks away, and laughs bitterly. It's a strangled, dry chuckle. "If only he had stayed away. Ever relentless Iwa-chan. He returned with his merry band of heroes. And we fought."

He glowers at something above Hajime's head. Tears well in his eyes, but he wipes roughly at them with his knuckles. Then, he steels his gaze and meets Hajime's. "Now you've come back from the dead for me."

* * *

"Wake up."

"Iwa-chan, wake up."

A ragged breath.

"Please."

"Why do you torture yourself like this?" Hajime questions, his eyebrows pulled into a frown. It must be raining, because there’s a wetness on Hajime’s cheeks he can’t explain.

Oikawa doesn't move from where he's bent over Hajime, cradling him. "Don't I deserve it?"

His vision blurring, Hajime slips, like sand, from Oikawa's curled hands.

Oikawa makes Hajime wait five minutes longer than usual this morning. Hajime stands outside the Oikawas' house, kicking at pebbles with his hands in his pockets, his expression morphed into an inevitable glower. He yawns as he hears Oikawa call out a goodbye to his parents.

" _Iwa-chan_ ," Oikawa greets, shutting his door behind him. He moves to prod at Hajime's forehead, but his hand is swatted away. "You're going to get wrinkles early if you keep frowning so much."

"Stop taking so fucking long then," Hajime retorts, already walking away.

"You look grumpier than usual," chirps Oikawa, easily catching up to Hajime to walk beside him. Stupid long legs. "Have you been sleeping enough lately?"

"Too much," Hajime answers. Then, he frowns, glancing across at him. "Aren't I the one who usually asks you shit like that?"

"Iwa-chan always worries about me," Oikawa agrees, nodding, with an annoyingly charming smile. His hair, as it always is, is fluffed to perfection. "I thought I should return the favour!"

"I'm not gonna take advice from someone with a sleeping pattern as insane as yours."

"Well, you probably need more sleep than me." Oikawa says. "You know. To help you grow."

Hajime shoves him onto the road.

* * *

As soon as Hajime drifts off to sleep, he's greeted by Oikawa, the demon, and Hajime suspects that he's been waiting for him.

Oikawa strides towards him, his red eyes piercing as ever. He seems to wince with each step, trying to fight his limp. All of a sudden, they're close, way too close for Hajime's comfort; he can feel the beginning of a flush warming its way across his neck.

Strangely, the feeling that Hajime is being _unfaithful_ tugs at his chest.

But - what? That makes no sense. It's not like he and Oikawa are _together_ , or anything. Sure, there's a lot of repressed feelings there, but there isn't time to unpack all of that right now. Hajime rears his head back to create distance.

"It's fascinating," Oikawa muses. His voice is low. "My magic brought you here, to my dreams. And I can't help but wonder… where else I could bring you."

Hajime recognises from the gleam in Oikawa's eyes what he's implying. To take Hajime from his dreams, to his reality.

Shaking his head, Hajime protests, "You can't do that."

Slowly, Oikawa tips his chin up. A coldness frosts over his eyes, sending a chill up Hajime's spine. He's never feared Oikawa before, but this comes close to being the first time. "I could," he says.

"Like hell," Hajime snorts. "I'm not - I'm not yours."

"Because you're _his?"_

"What? No - I mean. I'm not _him_. The Hajime you knew. Yours."

Oikawa's gaze hardens. "You're just like him," he insists, his voice turning shrill.

Clenching his jaw, Hajime holds Oikawa's stare. He's glaring into his best friend's eyes, but all he can see is an unsettling red. _You're nothing like_ him, he thinks.

Oikawa's eyes drift off to the side. His shoulders sag, and Hajime thinks he might crumble right there. He only shakes his head. He lifts his hand, like he might reach out to touch Hajime, but drops it. "I just miss you so much," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.

* * *

"Wake up."

"Iwa-chan, wake up."

A ragged breath.

"Please."

This time, Hajime's body no longer feels like lead. There's a searing pain in his abdomen, a burning heat that blazes with each breath he takes. His chest is too tight. His heart is too slow. He tastes metal - he can feel it on his tongue, in his throat and between his teeth.

He's dying.

"Oikawa," he manages. It slips its way out of his throat as a gargle. He feels a wetness lap at his bottom lip, his own blood.

"Hajime," Oikawa mumbles into his neck, his skin slick with tears, tears that will never quite dry. "I'm so sorry."

Hajime swallows, unable to ignore the sickly taste in his mouth and the agony in his ribs. His eyelids feel heavy. Time crawls on slowly, the seconds dragging. They feel heavy too.

"I never wanted this. I never... Hajime. Please forgive me. Please don't be angry with me." Oikawa cries, his hands gripping Hajime's shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. Desperately holding on.

Thick clouds rumble ahead, rolling across Hajime's blurring vision.

"Please don't leave me," Oikawa sobs into his neck.

Hajime's vision darkens. The cracked floor is vibrating below him, shaking with each sob that racks Oikawa's frame. The last thing Hajime registers is a heartbreaking wail tearing from Oikawa's throat, before he drifts into the blackness.

Hajime wakes to his alarm and finds tears streaming down his cheeks.

* * *

Hajime watches Oikawa as they walk to the gym, unable to unearth the scene of his best friend in tears, cradling his dying self, that has become rooted in his brain. What Hajime suspects might be guilt has settled itself in his stomach, a heavy weight that sours every mood and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He's finding it difficult to look Oikawa in the eyes - he feels a slight tug in his chest every time. Hajime feels bad, because he knows that Oikawa has noticed something is wrong, but neither of them have mentioned it yet. He can't even describe what he's feeling - is he mourning his own death? 

Regardless, even if Hajime has spent his entire day in a daze, life must go on.

Oikawa waves his hand in front of Hajime's eyes. "Iwa-chan," he cries, "are you even listening to me?"

"Sure," says Hajime, moving past Oikawa to continue up the staircase. Oikawa has been explaining the events of his recent class, but admittedly, Hajime has only been half-listening. They're going to be late to practice at this rate.

"I almost got a detention!" Oikawa wails indignantly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks beside Hajime.

"Duh, you can't expect to charm yourself out of not doing your homework."

"You think I'm charming, Iwa-chan?"

"I think you're annoying."

They enter the clubroom, where most of the team are already getting dressed.

Hanamaki sprays his torso with deodorant, and then coughs loudly and wafts at the fumes. He props one leg up on the bench in front of him. "I had the weirdest dream last night," he announces to the room.

Hajime is tucking his gym shirt in when he perks up, inclining his head to listen. He doubts that whatever Hanamaki is about to share will trump dying in your best friend's arms, though.

"So, we're playing volleyball, right?" Hanamaki explains. "I go to spike the ball, and it turns into a creampuff. And it explodes all over me! Cream everywhere."

Oikawa props a hand on his hip. "Makki, please. There are children here."

Hajime watches Kunimi send an exasperated look to Kindaichi.

"Stop it. I'm being serious! I was covered in my favourite dessert, all in my hair, and you all laughed at me. I'm traumatised. I don't think I'll ever be able to eat a creampuff again."

Matsukawa stands to pat Hanamaki's shoulder. "My heart goes out to you, bro."

"I knew you'd support me," Hanamaki nods. 

They all file out of the locker room and meet in the gym, where a couple of the second years are already setting up the nets. Hajime moves to bring over the cart of volleyballs.

"Usually my dreams end up with me being completely naked in public places," Matsukawa reveals to them.

"Like here?" Oikawa asks.

Matsukawa looks around the gym. "Yeah."

Oikawa makes a strange "Hm," sound.

"Why are you all so weird," sighs Hajime, leaving them to start the warm up.

* * *

"Iwa-chan, tell me. What's up with you?"

"Huh? Nothing's up with me."

"You're quiet," Oikawa grumbles.

They're on the way home from practice; Hajime's back is damp from his shower, and his legs grow heavier with each step. A part of him is dreading going to sleep tonight.

Hajime chews on the inside of his cheek as he considers telling Oikawa about his ridiculous dreams.

He runs a hand through his wet hair, then ventures forward. "I've been having some weird dreams lately."

"Really?" Oikawa asks. "Am I in them?"

"Yeah."

Oikawa gasps. "What am I wearing?"

"Shut up," Hajime grunts, shoving him lightly with his elbow. He can't bring himself to have any real bite to his words - his heart is beating fast as he wonders what it'll be like to get this weight off his shoulders.

And so, he explains his recent dreams.

"What do you mean _he wants you?_ " Oikawa repeats, laughing awkwardly. It's a little too loud for this time of day. "What - what would anyone want with you?"

Hajime is reminded of the fact that the Oikawa and Iwaizumi of this magic dream world were more than just _best friends._ "He - we - I… I'm not explaining it to you."

"Iwa-chan, you have no patience!"

"You're irritating!" Hajime counters, glaring down at the path as they walk. "And you don't believe me, anyway."

"I do," says Oikawa. "You have no reason to lie about this. It wouldn't even be a cool prank."

"It's insane, I feel like I'm losing my mind," Hajime confesses, letting out a long exhale. He clenches his fists in his jacket's pockets, glad to get this off his chest.

Oikawa taps his chin. "It's like something from a movie. What if I can go with you?"

"I don't know how that would work."

"Well, I won't let him take you."

Hajime glances across at Oikawa, and catches his gaze. Warmth spreads across Hajime's cheeks. He looks away, and _shit, am I blushing?_

"Maybe you have to kill him," Oikawa proposes. Then he squawks, and grabs Hajime's arm. "No, what if that kills _me?_ "

"I died over there and I'm fine here."

"Iwa-chan. You're being haunted by an evil demon version of me. Or you're haunting him. Either way, you're far from being _fine_."

Hajime shrugs, pursing his lips. He tries not to think about how Oikawa's hand is still gripping his forearm. He fails.

"But, okay," Oikawa continues, "you have my permission to rip out his heart."

"Jesus, Shittykawa," hisses Hajime. _I think the other me already got to that_ , he realises, with a drop in his stomach. 

Oikawa pauses on the path. Hajime stops adjacent to him. Shaking his head, Oikawa squints. "What? Are you going to just let him steal you?"

"Of course not." Hajime declares. He looks away. "But I don't think I'd be able to do that."

Hajime continues walking, with Oikawa following silently behind him.

"Well," he finally says, patting Hajime's shoulder and squeezing. "This probably beats Makki's dream on the weirdness scale."

They reach their street, and stand outside Oikawa's house. A warm glow emits from the downstairs level, as the two stand and watch.

Oikawa turns his head to Hajime, and asks gently, "Can I stay over yours tonight?"

Hajime stares ahead, feeling Oikawa's gaze bore into his cheek. It's obvious - Oikawa is worried about him, and it makes a knot tighten itself in his chest. Hajime can handle this. Still, he nods curtly once. "Sure."

* * *

Oikawa lays beside him, playing on his phone as they get ready to sleep. They both know there's a guest futon rolled up in the cupboard in the hallway, but it hadn't been used for Oikawa in years. Oikawa settles his head onto his pillow with a small sigh.

"Stay on your side of the bed tonight," Hajime tells him.

"You're one to talk. You're so clingy when you're asleep."

Hajime glowers at him from the side. "You're so clingy when you're _awake_."

Oikawa only grins - it's cute and pisses Hajime off - and flops his phone on the floor to let it charge. He turns on his side, away from Hajime.

Restless, Hajime shuffles his legs around, adjusts his shirt, and fluffs his pillow.

"Iwa-chan, stop squirming."

Hajime stares at Oikawa's back then turns his attention to the ceiling. He exhales in frustration. Hajime knows who is waiting for him once he closes his eyes. But he doesn't want to leave the one beside him.

That's _his_ Oikawa. Not the twisted shell of a demon boy, who's lost all the light in his eyes and the charm to his smile.

Slowly, Oikawa turns to lay on his back. It's awkward - they're past the point of being too big to share a bed like this, and there's no need for Oikawa's shoulder to be so close against Hajime's.

"Are you scared?" Oikawa asks.

"I'm used to it at this point."

"I'm sorry I don't know how to help."

Over the covers, their hands touch. Momentarily, Oikawa's pinky curls against his own.

"It's okay," Hajime says, and hates how it falls out of his mouth like a croak. He clears his throat.

"What's he like?"

"A brat, like you."

"Hey!"

"But he's… a lot sadder."

"Good."

"Stop being an ass," scolds Hajime. "He's been through a lot."

Oikawa quietens, and Hajime suspects he's imagining his life without him. A life where he loses his Iwa-chan forever. "I guess so," he murmurs.

Hajime listens to his clock tick quietly on the wall. Outside, a cat mews and scampers across gravel.

"Don't let him kiss you," Oikawa says.

"What!?"

"Goodnight, Iwa-chan!"

* * *

"This can't be good for you," Hajime says to Oikawa, the demon. "Summoning me here. You'll never move on."

Oikawa, sitting across from him, fiddles with the top of his boot, his leg crossed over the other. He frowns slightly, then peers at Hajime. "I don't want to."

Hajime swallows. His mouth is dry and tastes like cotton. "You can't have me. I don't want to be here."

"Harsh," Oikawa mutters.

"Yeah, but I think it's what you need to hear."

Oikawa's stare burns through to the back of Hajime's skull. Then, sensing something Hajime doesn't, he tilts his head, and murmurs to himself, "Who is that?"

They both look around curiously.

"Iwa-chan?" comes a voice, Oikawa's voice, from across the room. He stands in the large doorway in his pajamas, one hand on his hip.

Hajine looks between the horned Oikawa and the one by the door. He blanches; this is a little awkward.

"Jeez, now my dreams are getting weird," Oikawa whines, daring to step further into the room. He looks around, before his eyes fall on the horned version of himself.

"This isn't your dream, dumbass." Hajime says.

"Ew, have I just walked in on your fantasy of me?"

"This isn't my dream either."

"You mean you were being serious?"

"I knew you didn't believe me," Hajime grumbles. 

"I did! I do!" Oikawa insists, scratching at his elbow. "I just didn't expect to end up here."

The demon Oikawa leans back in his seat, surveying Hajime. Then, his cold eyes dart to Oikawa. "You don't realise how lucky you are," he says, plainly.

Oikawa blinks, and then marches over to grab Hajime's arm. "I'm taking Iwa-chan. He's _mine_."

"I'm not _yours-_ " Hajime mutters, letting Oikawa grip his arm, his fingers digging into his shoulder.

"We're leaving," Oikawa states to the other Oikawa. He peers down at Hajime. "How do we leave?"

Hajime glances at the demon Oikawa. "We wake up," he replies.

Oikawa, the demon, regards the two of them with slow blinks. Deep in thought, his fingers rest at his chin, his thumb swiping across his jaw. "So wake up," he snaps, and it feels like he has swallowed down the word, _Hajime_.

* * *

Groggily, Hajime comes to in his bed. He blinks awake, feeling the body beside him stiffen. His arm is slung over Oikawa's neck, almost cradling his head.

"Iwa-chan, you can't keep your hands off me even when you're asleep?"

"I was trying to choke you," Hajime replies, retracting his arm. He sits up and grabs his phone; it's around two am, and moonlight drifts in through the window.

"So that's him," Oikawa says.

"Yeah."

"The horns are pretty cool," Oikawa admits, and then pats the top of his head.

Distant traffic drones on outside. Hajime thinks he can hear a cricket chirping in his garden, if he strains his ears hard enough. A dog barks. 

Hajime groans, flopping back against his mattress. "I have to stop all of this," he decides. "Tonight."

"I'll come with you, again."

"No. I have to fight my own battles," Hajime says, and cringes at his own words. "Just trust me."

Laying beside Hajime with his head cushioned by his palm, Oikawa shakes his head. Hajime glances across at him. His gaze feels heavier in the dark. "I want to help, though."

"I know. You already have, I think."

"And what if he takes you?"

"He won't."

"Good. I've never been any good with sharing, anyway." Oikawa props himself up on his elbow. Then, hesitantly, he plants a kiss on Hajime's cheek.

Hajime freezes.

His eyes are wide as he stares at the ceiling. His heart beats wildly in his chest. Despite himself, he starts to smile. "The hell was that for?"

"Don't laugh, Iwa-chan! This might be our final goodbye."

Hajime thinks, maybe, Oikawa is trying to give him more of an incentive to stay. It's a futile effort, because Hajime is already prepared to go to the ends of the earth for him.

Still, with his cheeks burning in the gloom of his bedroom, Hajime can't complain.

"I'm not going anywhere," Hajime promises. Finally, he dares to meet Oikawa's glistening eyes.

Unmoving, they lay in this quiet pocket of the world, breathing together, watching each other.

Before he can stop himself, Hajime inches his head forward.

Oikawa meets him halfway. Eager lips meet Hajime's in the dark; yet so careful and uncertain, too. Tentatively, Hajime's hand cups Oikawa's jaw.

The kiss is a whispering voice, soft in Hajime's ear. The secret of, _I've been waiting for this, too,_ and the declaration that, _you will come back to me._

They pull apart. Oikawa inclines his head forward, resting his forehead against Hajime's. Oikawa lets out a content sigh; when Hajime opens his eyes, Oikawa still has his sealed shut. 

Slowly, moving his arm, Oikawa pinches the back of his own hand, and winces.

"I'm not going anywhere," Hajime repeats, in a whisper.

Hajime falls asleep with Oikawa's shoulder cushioning his head.

* * *

Marching into the throne room, Hajime comes to a stop in front of the throne. Oikawa, the demon, has sprawled himself across it, his chin resting in his hand. "I hate this part," he says. He looks around, casting a glance out the arched window to his side. A storm approaches. "This is when you came to kill me. History always repeats itself, hm?"

Hajime shakes his head. "I'm not here to do that."

His face blank, Oikawa nods once, but Hajime recognises the pain behind his eyes. "Pity. I'd have let you do it, this time."

"You need to _wake up_ , Oikawa. You can't get him back."

Oikawa's stare burns Hajime. His shoulders sag slightly, and he lets out a long exhale. "I miss you so much. I want to be selfish. I want to take you for myself."

Hajime gulps, his blood rushing in his ears. 

"But you hated me, once." Oikawa says, his voice weak. He closes his eyes, and bites down a shaky breath. "I wanted too much. You hated me. _He_ hated me. And it led to his death. I became someone he no longer recognised. Someone _I_ no longer recognise."

Thunder rumbles outside, shaking the floor beneath Hajime's feet. Oikawa clenches his fists in his lap to stop them from trembling. Hajime's chest tightens to see him so _defeated_.

"I had wanted more power. Now, all I want is him," Oikawa confesses. He looks up from his lap, and meets Hajime's eyes. "I won't do that to you, Iwa-chan. I won't have you hate me too. But, I'm afraid it's too late for that."

"It's not too late to change, Oikawa. That's… That's what he would want." Hajime says. He thinks of the people in his own life, in his Oikawa's life. "You have so many people who care about you. You _can_ change. And - you're destined for greatness no matter what."

Hajime clenches his fists at his sides, and hopes Oikawa registers his faith in his words. Outside, it begins to rain; the heavy downpour humming out soft vibrations against the walls, enveloping the room in quiet.

"I've never… lost anyone before," Hajime begins softly. "So, I can't say it's going to just stop hurting. But, I think, someday, it's going to hurt a lot less."

Oikawa nods, and neither of them acknowledge the tears brimming in his eyes. "I think so too."

Hajime watches the floor - he doesn't think he's ever been very good with words, but he knows that they need to count. "You're gonna be happy," he swears.

Healing can be ugly, and it usually is. But Hajime knows that this Oikawa can start.

Oikawa chews on his bottom lip. Then, he raises his chin, regarding Hajime down his nose. "Every time you came here, you were always clinging to your world." He explains. "Well, because it's your world, I suppose. But also because you love him. That's what made it so hard to take you."

Hajime's heart hammers in his chest. Because it's true.

"And he loves you too. It must be one of the few truths of the universe, I think. In every world, in some way or another, Oikawa Tooru will always love Iwaizumi Hajime."

Hajime figures that must be true, too.

Hajime looks outside, to the darkness swelling in the sky. It's strange to realise that in this memory of Oikawa's, he is about to die soon. "Is this goodbye?"

Oikawa smiles. It's bittersweet - but it's genuine. "Yes," he says. "I promise."

Something stirs within Hajime as he begins to, slowly, wake up.

"I had also thought that one of the other truths was that we'd be together forever." Oikawa says. "I was wrong. Do with that as you will."

Hajime's body feels lighter, like he might float away to meet the thunderstorm above. He feels himself, bit by bit, be untethered from Oikawa's consciousness.

"Cherish every moment," Oikawa instructs him sombrely.

Hajime manages to smile back at him. "Goodbye, Oikawa."

"Farewell, Iwa-chan."

* * *

"Wake up."

"Iwa-chan, wake up."

 _No_. Hajime jerks awake.

Hair tickles his chin, as Oikawa shifts against him.

Raising himself up on one elbow, Oikawa peers down at Hajime with a lazy smile.

They're in Hajime's bed. Relief washes over Hajime in waves, so much so that he swears he can feel the room spin. Dizzy, he studies Oikawa in his half-asleep state, his head heavy upon his pillow. A shaft of sunlight drifts in from the curtains. It paints Oikawa in gold. Like a halo.

Hajime can't help but think that horns suit his personality better.

Birds chirp outside Hajime's window. A car engine rumbles to life on their street, as the domesticity of the world wakes up. Somewhere, far off in the universe, Hajime wonders if there are two boys sharing an apple beneath a tree right now.

Half of Oikawa's face is scrunched up against the sunlight - it's awfully endearing to Hajime as Oikawa squints down at him, blinking away the remnants of his sleep. Embarrassingly, Hajime's arm is curled around Oikawa's waist. He stiffens at the realisation of this, before sighing and sinking his face into his pillow.

"Iwa-chan, we're going to be late to morning practice."

"I don't care," Hajime groans.

They're third years. They won't be there forever - once they go to nationals, (and win, of course) they'll graduate. Their underclassmen will need to get used to being without their captain and vice-captain soon enough. They'll just have to work extra hard after school today.

Hajime's chest stings as he considers graduation, and the fact that he and Oikawa will go to different universities. 

He tightens his grip on Oikawa, pulling him closer. "I just want to sleep."

"I like morning Iwa-chan," Oikawa says, settling back down on the mattress. "You're too sleepy to deny that you're a cuddler."

"Stop talking."

"What happened with demon me?"

Hajime lifts his head, his chin digging into his pillow. "He's going to be okay, I think."

Oikawa inhales with relief and nods.

"Just don't sprout horns anytime soon, please." Hajime says.

Oikawa laughs. When Hajime's alarm blares several seconds later, he reaches over and turns it off. Then, he intertwines his fingers with Hajime's hand at his waist, and holds on tight.

They sleep right through practice.

**Author's Note:**

> D: i have such mixed feelings abt this but whatever!! its out there! in the world!!!! my twitter is @oikawatime feel free to.. idk befriend me


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